


All I Know

by Gadhar



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Sexual Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Once again, I do not own anything henceforth except the words themselves.</p><p>I should be sleeping but no, I'm indulging in Barney's need to be horny. That sounded weird. I'll word that better in the morning.</p><p>My version of drabbles ahead.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I do not own anything henceforth except the words themselves.
> 
> I should be sleeping but no, I'm indulging in Barney's need to be horny. That sounded weird. I'll word that better in the morning.
> 
> My version of drabbles ahead.

“What are you _doing?”_

He sees Lee freeze, something— _is that a tortilla shell?_ —hanging out of his mouth, shoulders held stiff in a mid....Barney doesn’t even know what that is.

“I repeat. What are you doing?”

“Umm...” The noise is muffled by the food and Lee slowly unfreezes, finishing his bite and then holding the rolled-up tortilla awkwardly – like he’s debating whether or not to shove it in his mouth or throw it across the room. “I’m...eating...”

“I left for two hours. _Two. Hours._ You couldn’t eat the leftovers from breakfast? I mean, what the hell is that anyway?”

“A tortilla. With cheese. And butter. Like a cheese burrito. And I did eat the leftovers. An hour ago.”

Barney feels his jaw drop because—well because they just had breakfast. They just _finished_ breakfast right before he left. _Right before._ How was Lee even hungry? Barney had gone all out – pancakes, French Toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, the _works._ He had already watched Lee pack away food like he was getting ready to hibernate. He hadn’t even thought they would have leftovers, but they did and....

And now they didn’t. 

“How? Just...how are you so hungry? How are you not fat? I mean that–” Barney gestures wildly at the tortilla, letting his bag slip off his shoulder to the floor, “-is nothing but fat and calories.”

Lee shrugs, eyes downcast. “S’okay, I’ll do an extra hour of taolu.”

“That doesn’t– I don’t even know what that is. And what is that noise?” He’s not sure why he’s only hearing it now because it’s _loud._ So loud Barney doesn't understand how he didn’t hear it outside. “Is that _Al Green?”_

“What? Just ‘cause I‘m British I can’t like American music? What, I’m only allowed to like the Sex Pistols? Who I do like, by the way. I don't appreciate your implication.”

Lee wags an accusing finger in his direction but Barney hardly notices. He’s putting it together in his head. Lee having the house to himself, Lee eating, the music, the weird position Barney caught Lee– “Were you dancing?” 

“No! I mean, it was more like... _grooving.”_

“You say that like it’s somehow less weird.”

Lee shrugs, “So I like music, sue me.”

Barney cocks an eyebrow but says nothing, walking forward and dragging Lee in for a kiss. He can taste that strange flavor one always gets with microwaving cheap, processed cheese. “You never dance when I’m around.”

“Because you’ll laugh.”

“Probably.”

“Asshole.”

Barney smirks. It builds into a smile as he sees a grin slowly spread across Lee’s face. “I just don’t understand how you can eat so much food. All the time.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Ha, _boy_ huh? I’ll make a man out of you yet.”

“God, you’re cheesy.”

“Shut up.”


	2. Chapter 2

Barney stops in the doorway, shifting his weight to lean against the doorframe.

There was a section of the bedroom floor cleared away. A section Barney distinctly remembers having a table that held stacks upon stacks of his books, maybe even a chair though he’s not positive about that—there were a lot of books. 

It’s amazing. How quick Lee’s settled in. Not that Lee hasn’t always held a claim to Barney’s things, Barney’s space. But even when the Brit stayed over, even at the hangar, he had never settled in quite like this.

Barney supposes that’s because in those situations Lee was always hesitant. Like he would do something that would irritate Barney, something that would cause a problem. 

Like having his empty house filled would ever be a problem.

The floorboards creaking as Lee moves draws Barney’s eyes up. He lets his gaze slide up slowly. Lee’s in nothing but a pair of sweats and Barney follows the line of Lee’s legs to the curve of his ass and through the twist and flex of his torso. 

Lee’s always been leaner than him, flatter and more angular. But that’s no mark against him. It’s thrilling really, the raw power that Barney knows resides in those muscles. The flexibility that keeps Lee agile and unpredictable. Barney loves the feeling of all that against him, around him and in him. 

And if he gets to see all that working through whatever it is Lee’s doing half-naked in the middle of their bedroom, why would he ever have a problem with Lee settling in?

“You’re staring,” Lee huffs and there’s a faint sheen of sweat across his chest, settling in the creases of his abs. He must’ve been at this for a good hour or so.

“Of course I am. There’s a half-naked mercenary in my bedroom who’s doing something that looks very sexual.”

“You’re calling my san sik sexy? I’m pretty sure it’s not. Old Chinese dudes do this stuff.”

“I don't know what you just said, but, okay.”

“You’re staring at my ass.”

“Yes, yes I am.”


	3. Charlotte's Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I got a great idea. Why don't you let me doodle, like, a Charlotte's web on your head? On the top of your head. You know, something different, something exciting. 'Cause you got one of them perfectly shaped domed, muscular heads. I could put a web on the top of the head. Maybe a pregnant Charlotte coming out of your ear, peeking around, making sure them bugs don't come inside. Her long legs dangling down your neck. Yeah. Sexy, right?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Very sexy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the many versions that popped into my head upon reading that quote sent to me by a certain someone. Also the quote by itself is good for a laugh. However, this version was not long enough for a standalone story, my opinion, so here we are.
> 
> ....omg, I just thought of a follow-up chapter for this....

“You don’t seriously think a Charlotte coming out of my ear would be fucking sexy... _do you?”_

Barney almost laughed, the sound getting chopped and edged with smoke in his throat. If he was a bit more drunk, another glass or two, he probably would have—a full, throaty laugh at that.

But he wasn’t drunk, mind too sharp for his tastes on a Friday night, especially after a mission. And the way Lee’s voice sounded...it caught Barney wrong. All sorts of wrong.

“I think...I think if you wanted a pregnant Charlotte on your head, no one would tell you no.”

Lee sighed, annoyed, and leaned forward onto the bartop, his chin resting on the slick laminate as he stared at his beer, picking at the label. “That’s not what I asked.”

Barney rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to light up. His skin prickled with the thought of how dangerous this conversation was getting. Dangerous for reasons Lee would probably never guess.

“It is no business of mine what a man chooses to do with his body.”

The sound of Lee’s nails scraping against his bottle stopped and Barney looked over, catching Lee’s eyes in the dim lighting. 

“What if it had to do with you?”

Barney blinked, “Is this about Lacy?”

Lee looked away sharply. Barney wondered if he got whiplash. His neck would get a crick for three days just from that.

“Look, if you think a spider web on your head would have made her—No amount of tattoos is going to change what that bitch did to you.”

Lee remained silent and Barney let that hang in the air. He needed the time to stomp out the rage flaring at Lacy anyway.

“That’s still not what I asked.”

Barney didn’t have an answer for that. Not one Lee would like. But then, why the hell not? He never really stopped himself from being honest before, not with Lee. And if the Brit was still sulking about Lacy...maybe it needed to be said. 

“I’m going to say something, and you can take it however you want. Lee...I don’t care if you decide to paint your face like a fucking clown. You are _still_ going to be one of the sexiest people in the room. And honestly, if I’m the one looking, then you _are_ the sexiest one. So, if you’re asking whether or not I think a pregnant Charlotte can up your sex appeal, I say it can’t hurt.”

“What if that’s not what I’m asking?”

Barney flicked his eyes over, down Lee’s form and back up. So maybe this wasn’t as dangerous as he thought.

He sat up, leaning towards Lee. “If I’m honest, I’ll like whatever you do Lee. It’ll just take some getting used to. But I have a feeling we’re not really talking about pregnant Charlottes anymore.”

“I would hope not. Because if we are that’s...seriously disappointing.”

Barney snorted, leaning over and smoothing a hand over Lee’s skull. The movement more natural than he would have ever thought. And Lee’s lips were against his, smooth with the roughness of stubble. But it was slow, undemanding, and he pulled away with Lee following, his eyes closed.

“Will you still kiss me like that if I _do_ get a pregnant Charlotte?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Why are you sitting on the floor?”

Lee blinked back at him, absolutely and thoroughly _pouting._ Because if Lee wasn’t wearing the murderous, hard, mask of a mercenary he was either stuffing his face or pouting. There may a few scattered smiles in there somewhere but definitely not enough by Barney’s standards and so—pouting. 

_“Because.”_ Lee jabbed a thumb in the air, pointing at the cat. 

Barney shook his head. _Of course._

He stepped around Lee, dropping onto the opposite side of the sofa the cat was on. “I don’t understand, there seems to be plenty of room. ‘Sides, I thought you were finally getting along with the cat.”

Lee’s head rolled on his neck, facing Barney and positively _glaring._

Barney raised his hands, “Sorry, right. Never talk about that. Gotcha. 

Lee nodded and then took a deep breath and Barney just hoped this wasn't headed in the full blown rant direction. “The cat wanted on the sofa so I picked her up and dropped her on _that_ side. Because I wanted to sit on _this_ side. So I can see the TV. And I turn away for not even two seconds and there the cat is, on my side. So I move her to that side again and grab the remote and turn around and where’s the damn cat? _On my side. Again._ So I move her and I sit down and call her over because I figure she can sleep on my lap. But _no._ She sits over there and _pouts.”_

“So you sit on the floor?”

Lee shrugged. “Well, no. I mean, she’s upset and I felt bad so...”

“You’re ridiculous. It’s a cat.”

“Shut up! This your fault anyway. You didn’t have to agree to catsit.”

“I didn’t _agree._ Galgo was talking, I was confused and I said yes because I thought he would stop talking.”

“Did he?”

“It doesn’t matter." Which is code for 'no' and he doesn't have to tell Lee that. "He’ll take the cat back once he gets the...dog, ferret thing—whatever the hell he got—settled in." 

"We are _not_ babysitting ferrets. Ever.”

“Well hopefully Galgo won’t ever get anymore pets. I think Toll’s working on his mother hen tendencies with him. Now will you please get off the floor?”

“And sit where?”

“Well, I should hope it’s obvious, unless you and the cat have something you want to tell me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I'm taking it down."_
> 
>  
> 
> This is a bloody dumb crack fic.

“I’m taking it down.”

“Why? He’s not doing anything. Besides it’s my–”

“Don’t even. I live here now and that...you don't see me throwing up portraits of the Queen everywhere.”

“Your Queen doesn't do anything. _He_ did something. He was the _President.”_

“She does plenty of things! What the hell did _he_ do that was so great?”

“Spoke softly and carried a big stick.”

“I’m taking it down. It’s fucking.... _creepy._ I’m going to have nightmares. You’re lucky I’m not burning it.”

“Oh come on Lee, at least let me—”

“Alright, here’s your choice. You can keep your giant-ass portrait of Teddy, or you can have me sleeping on your lap as you read your books on that couch over there. Your fucking choice.”

The instant glare he got from Barney made it obvious it was a no-brainer but he was still hating every minute of it. Lee smirked. Wasn’t his fault Barney made himself so easy to leverage.

“Can I at least keep the small portrait of him?”

Lee frowned because well, Barney was frowning and he looked so—God, he was _pouting._ “How small?”

“Picture frame. Small, picture frame.”

Lee wanted to say no because really why the fuck anybody had a picture of Teddy Roosevelt in their _house_ was beyond him. But, compromise right? That was a thing you were supposed to do. “Fine. But I don’t want to see it. Ever. You fucking crazy Americans.”

“Thank you. Now if we’re talking about weird creepy things then how about we discuss getting rid of that _Sex Pistols_ poster of yours because I really do not need to see _that much_ of Sid Vicious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to explain the inspiration for this. Teddy Roosevelt always ends up being a really badass guy in popular culture (like when he's fighting aliens or whatever) and the man himself is pretty badass for a politician—the boxing thing, and the preservation of nature, the bluntness, the whole stick thing. And I always thought Tom Selleck looked like a descendent of him (and Tom's pretty badass too) and they both got the whole badass mustache thing going on and there's traits of Barney Ross that remind me of Francis Reagan (Selleck on _Blue Bloods_ ) and Reagan has this huge portrait of Teddy in his office (which makes sense because he's the police commissioner and Teddy was a police commissioner) so I don't know I could suddenly just see Barney having a portrait of Teddy. Also, I just saw Night at the Museum 3 last week and Robin Williams (RIP that beautiful soul) plays Teddy which makes the whole concept of Teddy Roosevelt cooler. And for all that, I think that's a bit weird, having a portrait in your house, you know.  
> And then Lee's British and is probably very familiar with the Sex Pistols and while I see him as more the guy who listens to good music no matter the genre, I imagine he was probably very much a "Anarchy in the U.K." kid.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we throw out the light-hearted tone I had going...sorry. I have no idea where this came from. This is what happens when left to my own devices.

“Have you ever wanted to hate someone?”

“Yeah. I tried to. Really hard.”

“Yeah?” Barney asks because for all the shit he knows Lee’s survived, and all the shit he doesn’t know about, part of him can’t see Lee ever hating anybody. Something about Lee just seemed too soft. Too human. Sure, Lee can kill, can think someone a monster but often times...one does this job without feeling. It makes it all far too difficult. Makes it so you don’t get up in the morning. So hate seems...a little out there.

“Yeah. You thinking of hating someone?”

Barney shrugs. He wonders if he hated Vilain, especially now that the bastard’s dead. Wonders if he hates Church for turning on them. Or Stonebanks, for all the shit he caused, the damage. 

Part of him says yes, because...because fuck they were _insane._ But...

Shit. What was it about Lee’s Glenfiddich that made him think so fucking much?

“Can I ask?”

“Ask what?” Lee’s gaze told him he knew exactly what Barney was asking. He just wasn’t going to answer unless he has to. 

His hair curls around Lee’s fingers, the Brit staring up at him with faint curiosity like Barney is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. 

Barney takesanother drink, other hand finding it’s way under Lee’s shirt as he traces rough fingers over smooth skin. “Who? Who did you try to hate?”

Lee’s hand drops, bending to rest behind his head. He turns to the side, looking away and Barney gets the distinct feeling Lee wants to go. Drop this conversation right where it was. 

Of course, Lee is lying down, his head in Barney’s lap and there is nowhere he could really go that Barney wouldn’t follow.

Just when he thinks Lee isn’t going to speak, his answer comes, soft and rough. “You. Before this. Back when you...you made it so fucking hard to even breathe around you without it hurting.”

Barney sucks in a breath, making the effort to force it out, slow and even. He can remember those days. Didn’t like to, sometimes. Because he had been blind and dumb and...well. 

Lee’s hand returns to his hair and he looks down, seeing the unnecessary apology there. One Barney shakes his head at.

“Maybe I should stop drinking.”

“Yeah, maybe.”


	7. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Pregnant fucking Charlotte"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because....spiders are fucking creepy.

Barney jerked awake, the darkness of their room taking far too long to focus into faint shapes and silhouettes. He was alone and even awake he could still feel it, like something was crawling all over him.

He glared at Lee’s side of the bed, just because, and got up. At the very least he knew exactly where Lee was and it wasn't like he’d be going back to sleep anytime soon after _that_ dream.

He found Lee in the living room, his head hanging off the couch, legs over the back cushion in the picture of perfect half-asleep comfort. He had the remote in his hand and was watching some infomercial.

Barney wondered how the hell all the blood going to his head wasn't absolutely killing him. 

Barney dropped onto the space next to him and Lee grunted at the disturbance, taking a moment to turn the volume down before dropping the remote and looking over at Barney. 

“Didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” He’d keep it to himself though how irritating it was to find out Lee wasn't sleeping through the night and was instead filling his head with dumb infomercials. “Why are you watching...whatever this is?”

“It’s a _Flower Power_ commercial. CDs. Stuff from the sixties, hippy-dippy love everyone and get high kind of music. You can get one CD for twenty dollars or the whole 3 disc set for ninety.”

“That doesn't seem fair.”

“It comes with a poster.”

Barney gave him a disbelieving look and Lee chuckled at him, before twisting and ending up on the sofa, sitting right-side up. 

Barney just blinked. 

How the fuck anyone moved like that was beyond him.

“Shit Barney, what the fuck happened?” Lee’s face had contorted, smile gone and replaced by concern. “Nightmare?”

Barney snorted. No doubt Lee was thinking of the usual nightmares, guns blazing, people dying and broken and Lee at the center of every freaking one of them. “Not what you’re thinking.”

“Then what?”

Barney inhaled deeply, wondering if he really wanted to govern Lee’s laughter but...well. It’d be annoying but he rather have Lee laughing than worried. “I had this dream. _Pregnant fucking Charlotte_ crawled off your head, with all her little spider-babies and tried to- fuck I don't know. But they were _everywhere._ All over me. Couldn’t breathe. It was...” He let his voice fade, waiting for Lee to laugh or snort or something. And then he kept waiting, getting nothing.

He looked over and Lee had a stern look on his face, eyes wide. “That is fucking _disturbed_ man. Creepy as fuck. Jesus Christ how are you not screaming right now?”

“Ha, I thought you’d laugh.”

“Laugh? If it was bunnies attacking you maybe. But fucking _spiders?_ Hell to the no. I mean, so glad I didn't get that tattoo. I can’t stand those things. Or bugs really. I mean roll around in the dirt and grit with them on the battlefield or at camp, I can deal with, but in my fucking _house_. No. Just no. Don't even joke about that shit.”

Barney knew his mouth was hanging open, knew he was nearly about to laugh but he couldn’t help it, and Lee was giving him that _what?_ look and it sent Barney over the edge.

He laughed even over the sound of Lee’s pained grumble of “asshole” until he calmed down. And then he took pity on Lee. “It’s not the spiders. That's not what I’m laughing about. I agree with you. That's not it.”

“Then what? Because I don’t believe anything I said was hilarious.”

“You called it your house. You’ve been here, not even a day, and it’s already _your_ house. Not that I’m complaining, hell I’d love that, but, do you even realize what you said?”

Lee gave him a fond smile, reaching down for the remote and flicking the TV off. “Of course I know what I said. And I meant it too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t fall over on me. I don't feel like carrying your ass.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because headaches are bloody fucking murderous.

Lee spun the pill with his finger, chasing it around and around on the counter a few times before downing it and its twin and following it with ice coffee.

He still preferred tea, like any good Englishman, but he’d admit that coffee had a way of settling his nerves or mind, oddly enough, and of course it helped with headaches most of the time.

That was his goal now, unwrapping a piece of chocolate as he walked in a circles in the middle of the kitchen. 

He couldn’t remember exactly _why_ he started walking but it seemed to help a little, maybe an increase in blood flow or something. His head was still pounding though, neck strained and aching, a constant pressure like metal poles pushing at his temples, a strange heat making it all feel light and...

He lost that train of thought when he drained the coffee. Lee stopped for a moment, steadying himself as he went for more of the iced drink. The urge to just drink right from the container was strong. He wondered if Barney would forgive him, this time if he did give in. Headaches bargained forgiveness right? Pity, at the least?

Lee decided against it, mostly off the thought that maybe he had too much coffee already today, though he couldn't really remember. He couldn't remember anything that would have caused this bloody fucking headache either.

He resumed his path, keeping up a steady stroll in a circle and sucking on another piece of chocolate. He nearly collided with hard pecs on his most recent go-around, blinking away the jab of pain as his eyes wandered up to Barney's face. “Fuck, your chest is hard.”

Barney cocked an eyebrow, eyes looking Lee up and down and then scanning the kitchen. They lingered on the farthest counter, where Lee knew there was a pile of chocolate wrappers, before flicking back to him. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment. Come here.” 

Lee didn’t follow him, but then with Barney's hands on the side of his face, lips against his, he ended up just going with it, letting Barney’s smooth warmth drive away what discomfort it could, even if the core of the pain was still there.

He felt Barney pull away, even as the hands moved up a little, thumbs rubbing at his temples and he groaned, leaning forward. Fuck. He never understood why any time Barney did that it actually worked but when tried it on himself he just made it worse.

Barney’s breath played across his face, a wisp of a laugh and then Barney was talking, voice low and soft, “Don’t fall over on me. I don't feel like carrying your ass.”

 _Like you even could, without throwing out your back_ he was going to say, keep up their usual teasing but his head wasn’t allowing it. Still thumping and playing hell with his scattered thoughts.

Lee didn’t know how they ended up on the sofa, his back against Barney’s chest, determined fingers moving across his scalp, neck and shoulders, pushing away tension and pain and general irritation with simple strokes. He didn’t really care either. It was enough for him to feel Barney breathe with every movement of his chest, to feel Barney’s warmth and lips on him as his headache receded slowly, bit by bit, probably wouldn’t be gone for another hour so but...

He made a noise, Lee had intended it to be something like an appreciative groan but it probably hadn't sounded like that. All the same he was resisting the urge to doze.

“I don’t think you can use headaches as a way to excuse eating _that_ much chocolate. How do you know it even works?” Barney was still speaking softly, fingers working magic and Lee closed his eyes, soaking it all in.

“It worked for Harry Potter.”

He didn’t need to see Barney’s face to know he was smirking, surprised and amused as his fingers stilled for a moment before returning to work. He knew exactly what was going through Barney's mind.

“I’ve read _some_ books, okay?”

“Okay, but, that was a dementor attack and I’m pretty sure that’s not the same as a headache. Also, you sure it wasn't the movie?”

No, actually, he wasn't sure, hell maybe he did see the movie and never read the book. Hell, he didn’t really care. It had just been another thought, a bare hint of one not connected to anything in his mind. It was hard to think so he had just resorted to thinking _less._

Barney huffed another laugh, hand smoothing along Lee’s neck before he pulled Lee even closer, fingers trailing across his jaw. And then there was Barney's whispered, coaxing voice, “Take a load off, Christmas. Nap a little.”


	9. House Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're supposed to be house hunting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolute ridiculousness.

“Lee, we’re supposed to be looking at the _house_ , not the fence.”

Lee ignores Barney because he’s not staring at the fence, he’s staring at the people on the other _side_ of the fence and that is totally different and seriously necessary right now. But instead of pointing that out, he skips straight to the point and says, “We’re not moving here.”

“O...kay. So glad you decided that without even looking at the place. Gut feeling or something.”

“The neighbors are serial killers.” 

He catches Barney’s slack jaw out of the corner of his eyes and turns, just a little, because he wants to make sure he doesn't miss anything if the neighbors _do_ end up doing something murderous while he’s standing there. 

“What?”

“They’re serial killers. I’m positive. We’re not moving next to serial killers. I mean _look at them._ ”

Barney does turn and peer over the fence, narrowing his eyes in that disbelieving look of his before turning back to Lee. “They’re gardening.”

“I know. Over freshly turned dirt. What I tell you, serial killers.”

“You’re saying there’s a body under there.”

“I’m saying there’s bod _ies_ under there. Serial, remember?”

“Uh-huh.”

He still hasn’t convinced Barney, but he knows he’s right. It’s the garden, it’s the fact that the wife likes _Star Wars_ and the husband likes _Star Trek_ , evidence by their shirts, and everyone knows a relationship like that wouldn’t work. On top of that, they’re both pretty. Not in the attractive way, but in the looking like fucking dolls way that is so not normal and so means something is up. 

He explains this to Barney and only gets a mocking smile in return. 

“You;e laughing at me.”

“No, I’m not. I just think your reasoning is a little–”

“You’re laughing. I can tell. Stop it. I’m right and I know it. They’re not _normal_.”

“You’re not normal. Lee, people like different things, it’s like–”

“I know that. But that,” He gestures wildly at the couple, still obliviously gardening. “Is not a difference in likes. That is a sign of serial killers.”

Barney sighs in that way that tells Lee he thinks Lee is being ridiculous. And not a good ridiculous. Just plain ‘will you shut up’ ridiculous. “I’d say you’ve just been watching too much TV but I know what you watch and I’m pretty sure none of the shows ever expressed a liking of sci-fi shows as a sign to being a killer.”

“It’s not the liking of sci-fi shows it’s the fact that they’re _together_ and one likes Star Trek and the other likes Star Wars. That's not possible. That’s like those people who like _both._ Traitors to the fandom.”

“You like both.”

“Shh! But people don't _know_ that. Besides, I’m the exception. Just trust me, okay? I know what I’m talking about.”

“We’re supposed to be house hunting. We both agreed that the travel between separate places was stupid and Tool kicked us out of the hangar. So, please, can we just–”

“Not this one,” Lee hisses back and swivels on his foot, stalking back to the truck, completely ignoring the glare Barney’s aiming at his back.

xxx

“So, how did it go?”

“I’m not talking about it.”

“I only ask because I am good, very good at–”

Barney blocks out the rest of Galgo’s rant because no, he’s not letting Galgo help him find a house. That’s for him and Lee alone to do. Now if only Lee would stop finding a problem with every single house they go to see. 

He turns the volume up a little on the news, blinking at a chopper’s aerial picture of– “No fucking way.”

“What?”

Barney leans forward, reading the bottom strip of information at the bottom of the screen.

“Oh my. Murders. That is not very– “

“Shut up, Galgo....No fucking _way._ ”

He can’t believe this, he really fucking can’t. Lee was– holy shit.

“What?”

“Lee was right. He was fucking right. I cannot believe–”

“Right about what?” Galgo asks all wide-eyed and now he too is watching the news attentively, leaning forward and more into Barney’s space than Barney would like. 

“We just saw that house,” Barney gestures to the one on the left of the picture, next to the house the news is really talking about. “Yesterday. It was on sale. And Lee didn’t want to because he said...he said the neighbors were serial killers. And–”

Galgo breathes in loudly, whistling all the air back out. “He was right! Wow, that Christmas sure is a smart one, yes? Are you going to tell him? Show him the report maybe? I think–”

“NO!” Barney snaps, shoving his finger at Galgo’s chest. “He never gets to knows this. Ever. You don’t say a word. God, if he finds out about this he will _preen_ so fucking much and believe he was right about every single problem in every single house. _He must never know about this._ "


	10. Chapter 10

Lee groans, crawling across the floor because fuck if he was going to try and walk. The world was tilting down here, he didn’t even want to think what it would be like if he was standing up.

He’s maybe two feet from the bathroom when he thinks he’s going to puke. _Again._ So Lee just rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He tries to force the feeling away through pure willpower. Mind over matter and all that shit. And eventually, it does pass. But his head’s still pounding and his eyes burn and he’s probably not going to be moving anytime soon.

He’s not sure when he falls asleep, or for how long but he wakes up to something decidedly _not_ soft nudging at his cheek. 

His eyes open to find Barney's sharp, clear ones and upside down Lee thinks he might look slightly teed off. 

“You drank all the bourbon. And half the whiskey.”

“I had a _day_ ,” He answers by way of explanation though Barney doesn't look like he’s buying it. Lee supposes he could understand. He’s not sure he’d want to come home and find Barney laying on the floor, smelling of vomit, totally hungover. Maybe drunk, because drunk Barney can be fun, but not hungover.

“I missed you?” Lee tries but that doesn’t get him much either.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” He tries instead and at least he gets a nod this time. Even if it is just the jerk of a chin and there’s nothing particularly reassuring about it.

Barney’s finger pushes against his forehead and Lee squints against the roll of pain and nausea, trying not to go cross-eyed. 

Then Barney sighs standing up and turning. 

“Where you going?” And he’s only slightly whining. Really.

“Anywhere that’s not here.”

“You’re going to leave me alone, in my hour of need? _Barney?_ ”

“You’re hungover. So yeah, I’m going to go. But, you’re little line about missing me has me feeling a bit sorry for you so I’m coming back soon with a bunch of hangover cures. Maybe this round we’ll find one that actually works.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content ahead. It probably sorta sucks. I can't write very good smut right now apparently. Jeff Bridges is so not helping either.
> 
> If there's any mistakes, like really weird ones, I apologize. I was typing on my new phone and it has a habit of turning fuck into truck and and into andornmoghdpbuif. Which I don't quite get.

"Hey Barney, the guys are-" Lee stopped talking. Maybe even stopped breathing there for a second. Maybe he wasn't even breathing now. Maybe he died and went to heaven because only heaven could have _this._

Barney looked...Shit he looked _good._ Really good. So fucking good Lee wanted to - fuck he didn't even know. 

It wasn't like he hadn't seen Barney naked before. Hell, they showered after missions together, he'd seen every inch of Barney. But now...now Barney wasn't even fully naked but God he was-

"Lee?"

Lee flinched, jerking in his eyes up to Barney's, faintly aware that he was probably being weird and freaking Barney out but....He swallowed forcing his mouth to shut with an audible snap. 

"Lee?" Barney repeated, the name pitched lower and more drawn out, more concerned. He was moving his hand, biceps flexing and muscles rippling, the sheen of sweat making them glisten and then he was- was fucking _waving_ his hand in front of Lee's face. "Lee are you-"

Lee smacked the hand away, taking a step back and trying to keep his eyes on Barney's face even though they kept slipping lower. "WOULD YOU PUT A FUCKING SHIRT ON? GOD." 

Barney looked surprised for a second, arms falling to his side before a slow grin started to spread. His eyes were lingering as little farther south than Lee particularly wanted right now and it was definitely not - NOT - helping.

"Stop it. Stop laughing. What the fuck are you doing, I told you to go- why are you doing this to me?"

"I believe you were saying something?" 

Lee could feel Barney’s eyes raking over him, he could almost feel actual hands if he focused just a bit more and- no. No, they were not doing this. "I was...um..." Barney was moving now, crossing his arms and Lee found himself staring at his shoulders and then biceps and fuck were those beautiful he could just- "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" Barney replied innocently, waving a hand.

"You fucking know what! Goddammit Barney put on a shirt! The guys are waiting and-"

"And what?"

"Just..." Barney was moving closer to him, step by slow, measured step. And Lee found himself liking his lips and swallowing. He was supposed to be saying something, they were supposed to be doing something but he couldn’t-

"Lee." Barney's voice was lower, huskier, and he was so close Lee could smell him, feel the heat of his body and-

"Fuck it." Lee pulled his own shirt over his head before throwing himself on Barney, grabbing that chiseled jaw and crashing their lips together. He could feel Barney’s smirk in that kiss, feel a certain amount of smugness in every shift of Barney's body and it was as annoying as it was sexy. "Fuck you," He growled, pushing Barney back, their breathing hard and hot as his hands pushed against Barney's abs.

"Sounds good," Barney muttered, pushing against Lee just as hard. He grunted when Lee shoved him against the wall, lips meeting in another kiss that was closer to a damn war of dominance. His tongue sliding against Barney’s, bodies rock hard and rubbing against each other. 

Shit, he couldn't breathe. Barney's hands were on his ass, strong and groping hard and Lee wondered why they hadn't bothered to take their damn pants off. 

Lee pulled away from their most recent tongue fuck, stepping back to work at his belt. Barney was following his lead, doing the same with his own pants. Lee was already so worked up, hot and so fucking turned on and he wasn't sure why Barney only half naked made him this horny but fuck it was worth it. He shoved his pants down and away, hand grabbing at Barney’s shoulder, squeezing over his arms and "Jesus fuck, Barney. Can we just- God, fuck, I can't- Barney, please."

"Yeah," Barney breathed against his neck, tongue dragging across his skin. "Yeah, fuck."

Barney turned with Lee right against him, bracing against the wall. Lee never left any space between them as he moved his hands over Barney's back, across hard, shaped muscles that were smooth and rough, over scars that made Barney shudder - fuck, what he wouldn't give to be doing this at their house in a fucking bed rather than against the wall in the hangar's showers.

Barney's hand was reaching back, firm on his waist as he moved in groaning loudly as he felt the heat wrapping him. For a moment he lost his legs, leaning against Barney heavily. 

"Shit, Lee, you good?"

Lee rested his head between Barney's shoulder blades, knowing he could feel the nod. He could come right now, he was pretty fucking sure. Barney felt so good, so warm and he gripped Barney's waist with hand, his other reaching around and gripping Barney's cock. 

It was a fluid slide, everything smooth and slick and - fuck. 

"Damn Lee, fuck. Good. So fucking good."

Lee shifted and the noise Barney made was so beautiful. He pushed in deeper, working Barney faster. He was so close already and Barney's voice, rough and gravelly, head twisting so they could kiss- "Shit Barn, I can't- close, so close, god you're beautiful. Your fucking _arms._ "

Barney snorted, his hips rocking back into Lee as he shuddered. "That what...shit- what started this?" 

"Fuck yeah." Lee watched as Barney moved, hands on the wall now, ass round in Lee's hands and Lee could see those arms moving, muscles shifting and he couldn't take it. He gave Barney a rough thrust and then another and he was gone, coming hard and hot, Barney's ass clenching around him and Barney's voice rough and loud with release in his ear.

"Bastard," he breathed into Barney's back, moments later, rubbing his cheek against sweaty-hot skin. "You did that on purpose, you fuck."

"What? Turn you on so much you'd fuck me right here? Shit Lee, if I knew you were that obsessed with my arms I would have used it to do this many times already. But thank you for thinking I have that kind of forethought."

"I am not obsessed. I just know how to appreciate beauty. It’s completely different."


	12. Chapter 12

“Really Lee?”

Lee’s head whips around, mouth dropping open in what Barney is pretty sure is an ‘oh shit’ before he forces out a rough, but still innocent “What?” through all the food in his mouth.

“Why are you eating that?” He gestures at the food which is just, unhealthy, if he’s being polite, pathetically sad if he’s not. 

“Because I’m hungry?” And Lee’s giving him that ‘are you daft?’ look on top of it.

“I wake up, alone, because you’re hungry, which okay, fine, but, you do realize I’m a pretty damn good cook and I could make something more appetizing than _poptarts and orange soda_ for breakfast?”

Lee huffs and he takes a moment to glug down some of the soda before answering, voice pitched higher than normal and all levels of offended. “I happen to like poptarts and soda. Granted, I prefer grape, but we didn’t have any, so I’m making do.”

Barney sputters, floundering because, still, he can cook, why not let him cook? He _can do that._

“Besides, how do I know you didn’t want a blowjob or something in return? What if I don't feel like giving a blowjob. Maybe I’m just not in the mood? Why do you have so many issues with my food choices. I saw the look you gave me at the grocery store. And I saw that exchange between you and cashier. I _saw._ don’t think I didn’t. You do not rule–Hey!”

Lee’s hand lunges after the soda but Barney takes a step back, chugging it down, and he gets away with it because Lee’s sitting and all he’s managed to do is overturn his poptarts onto the floor and nearly fall on his face.

Barney hands the can back, completely empty. “Okay, one, I don’t want a blowjob, I mean, I’m not going to say no to one, but I was kinda hoping for a lazy day in bed, dozing. Maybe making out. But sex wasn't really on the list. Like, at all. Shocking, I know. And two, this is not a negotiation, I can make food for you Lee, I don't have a problem with that. And I don’t need anything in return. Especially since all _this_ is kindof just, well sad. And three, why are you on the floor. We have a couch. and a chair. And come to think of it, _a bed,_ which is where I was hoping you’d be this morning.”

Lee stares up at him, a faint but completely confused look on his face that slowly melts into something more disbelieving and then there’s a smile and yeah, he’s pretty sure Lee’s laughing at him. “You don’t give a shit about the poptarts, do you? You’re just upset that you didn’t have someone to snuggle with. That’s adorable, Barney, it really is.” 

“Before you start laughing, maybe we should talk about how _you_ didn’t sleep the entire night I was at Tool’s shop because ‘it was _cold’._ ”

“That is not–”

Barney leans down, kisses those words away just like that, simple lips to lips with a touch of tongue dragging across Lee’s lips just to fuck with him. And then he stands, smirking at the way Lee tries to hide the pleasure on his face, tries to bury it beneath grouchy agitation and absolutely _fails._

“I’m going back to bed. Have fun with your poptarts.” He starts down the hall, only smirking a little when he hears a strangled “Barney, wait” and then there’s feet scrambling to follow him, Lee’s sock sliding on the floor.

One for him, zero for poptarts.


	13. Fic Bits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random bits that are going to fit absolutely nowhere else and while they're not complete fics, they're sortof complete ideas? I think?
> 
> They're not connected in anyway aside form being bits of fluff.

Lee stumbles into the bathroom, already halfway out of his shirt as he toes off his boots. He has a plan, in his mind, a set routine that he always follows on the few missions where instead of hanging around with the guys for awhile, they all go home and do their own thing.

It used to be their own thing. Now though, it's his and Barney's thing and it's...difficult.

"What–what are you doing?" Lee stops Barney with a hand to the man's chest. Barney looks far too _excited_ considering how exhausted he should be and how exhausted Lee _is._

Barney's grin slowly slips into something closer to a pout, eyes blinking owlishly. "I thought...it's...the shower...and–” 

"And no. You thought wrong. _I'm_ gettin' a shower because I smell like three day old swamp with a touch of blood and rotting corpses. And then I'm going the fuck to bed. And if _you_ plan on getting in that bed then you're getting a shower too because if you think that I will let you anywhere _near_ the bedroom smelling like–like _that._ You're bloody insane."

"But I thought-"

Lee whips a finger up, lays it right across Barney's lips. "No. No shower sex. No."

xxxx

They've been up for three days. Though Barney would wager to say that Lee's gone nearly four.

Even now, relatively safe on this transport, Lee's sitting near the outside, watching the scenery pass by as the other guys sleep off a few hours of the sleep debt they're all collecting.

But Lee's swaying, a smooth back and forth that's interrupted by the occasional jerk. And Barney knows it's not just the rough terrain of the road.

He makes his way over to Lee, stepping over Gunner's long legs and briefly glancing at the way Caesar practically _cuddles_ his weapons in sleep.

There's no acknowledgement when he sits down, not until he slides a hand around the side of Lee's skull, thumbing over a cut that follows the line of Lee's eyebrow before cutting down viciously into a straight line. That's when Lee nearly jumps, the upward motion of his shoulders fighting with the urge to jerk to the side away from Barney's hand.

And when he locks eyes with Lee, there's a fogginess enhanced by the racoon eyes Lee's sporting.

"Sorry," Barney mumbles, instead smoothing his thumb across Lee's cheek and away from any injuries.

Lee shrugs, making a low noise in his throat as he turns away from Barney, looking out the back of the truck again.

"You should sleep," Barney says, letting his hand slide to the back of Lee's neck to rub lightly at tense muscles.

"I'm fine."

"M'hmm, no doubt. Still."

Lee just shrugs again, setting his shoulders against the tug of Barney's hand, determined to look away.

"Look, even I've slept a little. And you know how bad I am. Come on."

Lee shakes his head, mumbles a curse before pushing the thumb and forefinger of one hand into his eyes, sighing. His shoulders slouch in resignation, because he knows Barney won't leave him alone. "It's too cold."

Barney can't help but snort, and he tries to ignore the quick glare Lee sends his way. "Sorry, it's just that it's about 80 degrees and-"

"Not the weather," Lee snaps, and he tries to jerk away from Barney again, shake off the hand at his neck. But Barney won't let him go that easy. "It's me, it's...I get _cold._ Just dreams and it's just too cold. Not worth it to even try. I'll be fine.

Barney's eyebrows knit together, wondering at that. But he thinks he gets it, the feeling, the cold slick of isolation in an nightmare.

So Barney shifts, turning on the bench and scooting over until his back reaches the wall that divides his bench from the one Toll's past out on. He brings on leg up onto the bench and leans it against the wall of the transport. "Come here." He waves Lee over with a hand, a quick twitch of his fingers.

"What?"

"Just come here."

Lee keeps staring at him blankly, those tired eyes seeming to grow wider with each passing moment.

" _Come here._ " Barney beckons with his hands again and Lee stares at him for a another moment before slowly shifting himself over. He hangs over Barney for a moment, pure suspicion in his features, until Barney tugs him down.

It's uncomfortable at first, and a challenge to work around all the hard edges of their armor and the stiffness of their limbs, but Barney gets Lee laying against him, head on his chest, turned slightly toward the wall. Lee's got his arms wound around one of Barney's as he lays there and when Barney brings up his other leg, stretching it out as best he can, Lee leans back as much as he can, snuggling down.

Barney watches him, a warmth in his gut that makes him want to light up. Something about laying here, Lee against him with a good cigar between his fingers...

Barney shakes his head, glancing down. Lee's out, his breath a small breeze on Barney's arm.

Barney smiles and slips down a little himself, laying one arm over Lee and settling the hand of his other on Lee's ribs. They still have a few hours until they get to the local military base. Which means they still had nearly a day from home still. But maybe the guys would sleep most the way and he'd get some sleep himself, all the while keeping Lee warm.

xxxx

Barney blinks away the last glimpses of his dream, waking to lips grazing over his cheeks and fingers in his hair.

Lee's face comes into view, and Barney hums when Lee's weight settles on him.

Lee leans down and kisses him, just a touch of lips before opening his mouth and taking Barney in as he gives himself over in equal parts. His lips moves against Barney's in a slow pattern, up and down, their tongues sliding together. And Barney can taste the heat on Lee's tongue, the bite of whisky and he wonders how late it is, or early, either way it's probably not a civilized time for drinking.

Not that either of them are civilized.

Lee pulls away, just until they're not touching but Barney can still feel his breath on his cheek as Lee turns his head a little, his fingers tracing the lines around Barney's eyes.

"You alright?" Barney asks, tilting into Lee's touch. Lee's got a strange look on his face, it's not quite a smile and his eyes are bright and round, glittering in the dark.

"I'm good," Lee breathes, inhaling deeply as he noses against Barney's cheek, that not-smile curling his lips a little more. "I'm really good."

"Yeah?" Lee sounds...lighter. Nothing heavy hanging on his voice like exhaustion or stress. Nothing forming lines on his forehead or making his muscles tense. Lee feels heavy and relaxed on top of him, smooth even.

"Yeah. How about you?"

Barney hums again, brushing a finger under Lee's ear and smiling at the small squirm he gets. "Good, real good. But, better now."

"Yeah?"

"You think I'd lie?"

Lee ducks his head, nibbling on Barney's jaw and eliciting a shaky breath.

"That's not an answer."

"I'd really rather not answer. Ruins the mood."

"Ouch, wow. You really don't trust me?"

Lee looks up, absolutely pouting. "You really don't want this to happen do you? I mean, bloody hell Barney, I wanna screw on the sofa and you wanna have some in depth conversation about our relationship and shit."

Barney scoffs, honestly that is not at all where he was going, but Lee's answer, or lack there of, worries him. However, he doesn't say anything, instead watching the way Lee's eyes glitter darkly.

Barney slides a hand to Lee's skull, tugs him down as he leans up and kisses Lee softly.

Lee's eyes close and Barney can almost feel—from the way Lee's lips are set against his—all Lee's annoyance and dark thoughts slip away.

And he himself can feel the time slipping by, in a strange way that makes him feel like he has all the time in the world. And all of it for this moment.

When Barney pulls away Lee follows him, panting lightly as he closes his eyes, obviously trying to get a hold of himself. "You alright?"

"Fine, just–fuck, you know you're a real pain in the ass right? Turn me on and off like a fucking switch."

"That's the idea, yeah." Barney says, smiling.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's two in the morning. Beta'ing is kind of nonexistent. But, I offer small crumbles of things

It’s vaguely disturbing; always disorienting. Akin to how one wakes up from a deep sleep, briefly unaware of time or place or names. Or, that moment of stillness, before the dizziness of such movement sets in, right when the world just slowly tilts, falls, shifts to its side and the brain registers it in this sort of abstract curve of understanding; like receiving a sequence of events out of chronological order. There’s that undertone of something being off, a subtle disruption, and the slight shift in the world that settles on ones shoulders, somewhere at the joining of neck and back: tension.

That’s how Barney’s always felt it. Same as he does when a bullet catches his side just, less. 

He wakes up to an empty bed and empty arms and feels that shift, that subtle tilt, that eventual fall to a side that the world doesn’t belong on.  
Barney hates that feeling. The feeling of _wrong;_ the way it curls around him and makes him sluggish, slow, unable to follow along the lines of a story he already knows the words of. 

He hates the feeling but he loves, _cherishes_ even, the fact that it is Lee who does this to him. Who so easily, unintentionally, leaves him open and wounded with simple gestures and dramatic actions. 

Barney feels the tilt and the sense of wrong and he eases himself up, tries to get the world to right itself enough for him to walk. 

And then it’s bare feet on the hardwood, soft steps through the halls, tension riding his shoulders and arms but he follows his feet, he knows where to go, even with the world off its axis. 

And Lee’s there, curled on the sofa and watching the rain fall _pit-pat_ against the window. 

It’s a storm in from the Pacific, warm and wet. 

Barney eases himself down, into that spot behind Lee, the reserved place at his back. And Barney wraps his arms around him, pulling him back into the softness of the cushions. 

And the world slowly returns to its axis, the tilt shifts back upright and everything rights itself once again. The tension bleeds from him with that sense of wrong and he feels the warmth of Lee right there, right here, with him. And he feels that deep sleep come back to claim him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best execution but I like the idea a lot. And just to keep the fandom going might as well share because I doubt it'll ever get any fic-time past an odd mention here and there in other fics.

“Pretty picture, yeah?”

Barney’s smile no doubt grows, he’s probably outright grinning by now, he can feel it in that tight burn of his face that kindof hurts but it’s a good hurt and he learned long ago to savor that kind of hurt. 

Tool bumps their shoulders together and it’s quiet aside from the sound of Tool’s subtle sucks on his pipe and the sound of Lee’s breathing—slow and even. 

Lee’s sprawled in the armchair, head leaned back, mouth slack, with that tight ball of fur resting on his chest. 

“You keeping him?” Tool asks and Barney actually glances at him for a moment before turning back to his vigil of Lee. Tool’s talking about the dog on Lee’s chest, the one they picked up on the mission in Zimbabwe. The damn thing had attached itself to Lee the moment they crossed the deck to the plane. All the guys had been waiting and here Lee was trying to get this pup out of the damn plane, swearing and nearly yelling, face so red Barney thought he might explode. 

Barney’s not sure if it was the way the dog just gave Lee a bland unimpressed look the entire time he ranted that eventually wore Lee down, or if it was the way the dog have him a wet sloppy kiss the minute Lee was ready to grab him and throw him out. But when that happened Lee just kindof stopped and looked at Barney with that faintly exasperated look, nearly pleading and Barney had finally just let all the laughter that had been bubbling in his chest out, much to Lee’s chagrin, complete with the usual death glares.

And now here they were. Most of the team had gone home when the plane landed, the mission had been mostly recon with a little bit of bodyguard stuff. Nothing to have the team dog-tired and likely to veg out at Tool’s place. So Barney and Lee had arrived alone, their new furry friend in tow. 

And oh the way he had seen Lee melt in the past few hours with that mutt. If it wasn’t for the obvious biological differences, Barney would swear the two were twins. The way they gorged and appreciated food, grinning like idiots as Lee shared his french fries, the way they both seem to give Barney these amused but pitiful looks whenever he said something that they apparently thought was idiotic. 

As much fun as all that was, including seeing Tool laugh in a way Barney hasn’t heard in years. He likes this better. 

Because it _is_ a pretty picture. A beautiful fucking brilliant picture, seeing Lee relaxed and dozing, that pup curled up on his chest. The two of them out like lights and at peace. It’s the cutest damn thing Barney’s ever seen. And he voices as much, “Is it weird I think that’s cute?”

Tool gives one of those quiet little chuckles. “Not sure there’s any other word for it, ‘cept maybe adorable. Quite a pair you got there.”

Barney snorts, “Never said we were keeping the dog.”

“You think you’re gonna be able to get that little pup from your man over there? I don’t care what he’s said Barney, he’s done in. Dogs know good people, and if he already picked your boy out of everyone in Zimbabwe, you ain’t getting rid of him. Christmas wouldn’t let you anyway, he’s wrapped around that dog’s paw. You will be too, give it time.”

He’d deny it, except Barney already knows, just because of how much smiling Lee’s done tonight, even tired, he’s done in. They both are. Though Barney’s more than happy to have the backup on keeping Lee smiling. Just makes it all better.


	16. Maybe

Barney can remember all these times, sitting with his ma in the kitchen, bread and oil between them as she talked about how to be a man and all the ways to get a girl—what to do, what not to do and when to do it. 

And he can remember paying attention with the staunch belief that this he was never gonna be that man. Never gonna have that chance. Never gonna get the girl. 

He’s at least two-thirds wrong sortof, Lee would probably argue he was completely wrong and…maybe he is. But Barney’s not there yet, may never be. There’s too many years of indifference, loneliness and anger that’s ingrained a certain amount of emotional unavailability in him and he can still feel it in his chest sometimes—pushing against his rib cage, a solid steel mass that’s cold and heavy, always slowing his hands making his breath catch when he tries to challenge it. Sometimes he doesn’t have the energy to fight through it, to make himself reach out and it’s one of the many reasons he’s glad he has Lee—too bullheaded to pay attention to any of Barney’s staunch boundaries against something as ridiculous as need. Need for touch, need for company, need for love.

He never did get the girl. Instead he got a guy and he got the chance but it was not at all anything like the chance encounters his ma described. Or maybe it was. Chance, because he never thought it would happen, chance because it was unexpected, chance, because there had been that odd sort of locking of gaze and a weird warmth in his chest. 

Barney might not be the man his ma wanted, probably not anything close to that guy she painted a picture of but Barney sure as hell has the things that man is supposed to have, despite not deserving them. 

Ma never told him what was supposed to happen next though, how relationships were supposed to go and ninety percent of the time Barney feels like all his senses have been overloaded to the point of delirium. Especially when Lee’s—well, when Lee’s Lee—always gliding into the kitchen in his socks, shirt riding up as he stretches to get caramels out of the top cupboard. Or strolling around in one of Barney’s old sweaters, the thing hanging off him, just the right amount of loose, good bit of skin showing around his neck, smelling of Barney’s cologne and ass looking _just right in jeans._

Barney doesn’t get how relationships work but as he presses a kiss behind Lee’s ear—reveling in the shiver he gets before tonguing at the spot, feeling Lee melt—he thinks maybe this is all there is. Being able to touch and hold when he wants, to be on the receiving end when he can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe it’s being able to slide his hands into jeans, chest swelling at the sight of an ass that drives him crazy, feeling that ass press back into him when they touch or fuck.

Maybe it’s being able to hold Lee close in the middle of the night, hear his heartbeat like Barney’s own and be able to kid himself into thinking that he can protect Lee from anything. 

Maybe he’s actually doing something right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually inspired by a tumblr post on "how relationships work" but, in the process of writing, story didn't actually go the way I wanted. Not a bad thing, actually fairly happy with this. But the mood and tone are off, so, might have to try again for the intended feelings. 
> 
> In the meantime, Barney got to be a little sappy and reflective. 
> 
> As usual, I'm renting out Stallone's brainchild and I don't actually pay so I'm really a horrible customer.


	17. Days like These

Barney likes days like these. Days spent curled around Lee in the morning, cooking real meals in the kitchen—house smelling of herbs and oil—reading on the sofa with Lee either spread on top of him, or humming pleasantly on the other end of the sofa—earbuds in, kneels curled up to his chest as he scribbles in his book, one leg always occasionally stretching out to push against Barney’s thigh—chatting during dinner laughing at Lee’s jokes and constant teasing, staring at a smile so bright—Lee’s eyes shining and looking so young and light—having Lee’s cock in the back of his throat—dragging out those sweet noises before thrusting into him slow, watching that flush light his skin, feeling an equal power push against him until he can suck on Lee’s neck, behind his ear, have him loose and mewling and begging—letting Lee have his own way, strong, lithe fingers grazing over Barney’s skin—lips and tongue teasing, teeth nipping, heavy cock nudging between his thighs—ending the night with Lee in his arms, soft and warm and safe, pressed tight to his side so Barney can hear him breathe, can feel his heart when he lays his hand over skin, can feel Lee’s finger’s drowsily tracing his tats as he floats deeper into sleep. 

Barney likes the days they spend in bed pouring over each other. Being able to kiss his way down Lee’s back, nipping above the globes of his ass before smoothing his hands over them, growling in his throat and feeling the same slick molten heat down his chest he feels when Lee kisses him deeply and whines in his throat. Same primal possessive drive that makes him zero in on Lee, sliding his cock between hot cheeks before pressing in slow, waiting for adjustment and then fucking back in hard. He likes to feel Lee’s body tense and strung tight, arching back into him and pleading with the way he pushes back into Barney, always trying to get closer, to get more. The desperate pants and groans dripping from Lee’s lips like a slick bourbon as Barney goes harder and faster, changes the angle to make it deeper and tries to push everything he has into Lee.

He likes the days in the back of his truck too, pressed shoulder to shoulder sitting on the tailgate of his truck, sipping beer and staring at the stars. He’s always waiting for that deep kiss Lee does where his fingers slide into Barney’s hair, pulling him close before Lee noses at the side of his face, breathing deeply before locking their lips, tongue sliding in. And it’s a fight for dominance that Lee always wins because he’ll straddle Barney, rub their groins together before groaning about wanting to fuck Barney blind into his mouth and that’s when Barney always loses that battle because he can’t focus with that image in his head. And Barney’ll lay back, feel the ridges of the truck bed digging into his back but the minute Lee’s lips wrap around his cock he forgets about that and whatever else happened that day or week. It’s just him and Lee and strangled voices as Lee pushes in and Barney can’t get over the feel of Lee inside him. 

Then there’s the days where they’ll sit at the table and eat and talk and Lee will read something from his book in a choked and rough voice because he’s nervous as fuck and Barney will tell him it’s beautiful like he is. Then they’ll sit on the sofa and watch a movie and he’ll watch the way Lee’s face lights up when he rants more then he will the film and then they’ll go to the bedroom, licking whisky off each other’s lips as they undress each other. And they’ll just lay there in bed, lazy kisses and stroking of fingers, Lee’s arms around his middle, face pressed against his stomach as he drifts into sleep. Barney loves those days the most, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I'm still actually trying to write off the stupid tumblr post. I'm just sucking at it. I'm also attempting to write full-blown smut. Also sucking at that. Also Barney is hogging the spotlight. 
> 
> So...little bits instead. But good little bits. 
> 
> Again, renting the characters. Not paying.


End file.
